


Opportunity for Fashion

by flickerthenflare



Category: Glee
Genre: Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-22
Updated: 2014-02-22
Packaged: 2018-01-13 10:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1223245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flickerthenflare/pseuds/flickerthenflare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine knows Kurt well enough that he can interpret Kurt’s feelings based on his outfits, and today Kurt should stay home sick.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Opportunity for Fashion

When Kurt is filled with enough ennui that even clothes don’t matter, his outfits repeat despite the detailed fashion log he keeps; when he starts to feel sick and doesn’t want to acknowledge it, he dresses for the runway. A runway in Antarctica, from the look of it, despite the warm spell in the loft that comes after the pipes have stopped clanking and radiators stopped whistling through the night. Blaine is used to the radiators by now, but Kurt’s tossing and turning and cover stealing kept him up instead.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay home today?” Blaine asks as Kurt laces up knee high boots over pants over leggings like a gladiator going into arctic battle.

“Do I look like I’m sick?” Kurt tightens his laces. He looks up with heavy eyelids that detract from the intended fire in his congestion-strained voice.

It’s not that a lot of layers are unusual to see on Kurt, but today’s combination is way too much to wear indoors in any room that has heating. He dresses for spring like it’s still the dead of winter. Blaine hands Kurt a tissue from his inside jacket pocket for his already red nose. “Try again.”

“I’m fine.” Kurt wipes at his sabotaging nose. “I don’t look sick, thank you very much, because I’m fine.”

“You’re wearing an ascot and a scarf at the same time. Don’t you think that’s a bit much? You haven’t worn this many form-hugging knee length sweaters since high school.” It’s a form-hugging knee length cardigan today, but Blaine stands by his observation.

Kurt’s effort to look offended is a tad too delayed, like the rest of the movements he makes in his illness-clouded fog that Blaine knows with absolute certainty exists. The effort of making a face forces Kurt to stop fussing with his clothes. He woke up early to start getting ready – bumping Blaine on the way out of bed and fumbling with the light before cursing and putting it out –and he is still so slow.

Kurt’s retort is also delayed. “I’m trendsetting. Fashion recycles.”

“ _Kurt._  I saw you put on Under Armour in place of an undershirt. The only one you’re fooling is yourself.”

“It’s a great tactic,” Kurt defends. “Even if you’re feeling a little under the weather – a little! – you should feel good about yourself.”

Blaine won’t let himself laugh. He won’t. Kurt’s clearly not in his right mind. He keeps a straight face as he asks, “Thermal sportswear hidden under your clothes makes you feel good about yourself?”

Kurt blinks at his (still so slow) realization that he backed himself into a fashion corner. There’s another too long pause before he says, “I like the name. The name is part of today’s homage to militaristic embellishments. It sounds fierce.”

Blaine skims a hand down the soft fabric of Kurt’s decidedly-not-militaristic cardigan. “You’re always fierce.”

Normally Kurt would kiss him for the compliment. Instead his smile just wobbles.

“Even when you’re sick,” Blaine amends. He moves a palm slowly toward Kurt’s forehead, giving his dazed fiancé ample time to protest even in his delayed state. Kurt leans into the touch and closes his eyes as Blaine takes his temperature.

“Being sick doesn’t fit into my schedule right now, so I’m not going to be,” Kurt informs him.

Blaine smiles fondly. Even with his eyes closed, Kurt will know he’s smiling.

“Are you going to work today?” He asks again. He tries to keep his voice level without leading Kurt to the choice Blaine would make for him. Kurt can make his own choices, but often Kurt’s choices are to do too many things at once, between school and two jobs and even more of his own passion projects, and illness tends to be wholly occupying.

Kurt drops his too-hot forehead to Blaine’s shoulder. The pause between Blaine’s question and Kurt’s answer is even longer than the others. Blaine can sense the waver in resolve before Kurt forces out a “yes” against Blaine’s shoulder. He doesn’t move from the spot he’s tucked himself into.

Blaine rubs at Kurt’s back through all the layers. “Save something for the return trip. I know that’s not how you operate, but don’t be so determined about going to work that you use up all your energy getting there. You still have to get back home. And maybe function while you’re there.”

“I’m fine. Perfectly fine. I never want to leave when you hold me. That’s it.”

“I know.” Blaine pets at the hair Kurt spent too long perfecting. He has one last trick up his sleeve to get Kurt to admit he’s under the weather, and he only feels a little devious for using it. “Kiss me goodbye.”

Kurt twists from Blaine’s grasp and ducks his head. “I’m not leaving yet.”

The night before, Kurt insisted on turning away from Blaine, letting Blaine wrap arms around him from behind but refusing to face him. Nothing too usual except for how adamantly Kurt insisted he face away from Blaine.

Blaine bats his eyelashes. “Kiss me anyway?”

Longing reads plainly in Kurt’s eyes. He rarely denies kisses when Blaine overtly asks for them. He takes one step forward then rocks back like he’s fighting with himself. He wavers, rocking back and forth, before he stomps to the couch and plops there dramatically. “That is a dirty trick.”

Blaine can’t resist following behind to tease and fuss. “You don’t like being asked to kiss me?”

Kurt drags the blanket draped over the back of the couch over his lap. “I’m sick,” he moans piteously. “You’re too good for such a common –”

“Cold?” Blaine supplies with a bemused tilt of his head.

“Save yourself, sweetheart. It’s terrible. I feel like my nerves have been dragged across a cheap rug and dumped in a fog.”

Blaine pets at Kurt’s too-warm cheek. “We share a bed. You probably already infected me. And when the time comes for you to lecture me to get some rest, I’ll listen. Until then, I’ll get your pajamas.”

Kurt grabs his wrist to keep him close. “No, stay, I’ll do it,” he says unconvincingly. “Once I’m willing to change again. God, that took forever. All that work and no one gets to see my outfit,” Kurt pouts. He wraps himself in a tight one-armed hug around his leopard print cardigan as he holds onto Blaine with the other.

“At least your immune system might appreciate the fighting theme.” Blaine kisses Kurt’s forehead.  “Start thinking about what you want me to pick up on the way home. Try to eat something other than cookies until then.”

Kurt nods. His chin droops against his chest and he nestles further into the couch.

Blaine returns home to Kurt passed out on the couch in the same outfit from the morning, knee high boots and all. The heat is more blistering in their apartment than usual. Back issues of  _Vogue_  litter the coffee table along with crumpled tissues. The bathroom trash is relocated by his side, as is the mostly empty box of tissues.

Blaine snaps a picture on his phone to coo over so he can leave the real Kurt alone to rest. All their friends will see the outfit Kurt worked so hard on when Blaine shows off his fiancé dressed immaculately even while sleeping off a fever.


End file.
